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With the now familiar ear splitting whine, and the tingly feeling of reintegration, Torak began to materialize on the transporter pad of Starbase 118. Having been transferring from a much larger ship, to a small scout vessel, he had chosen to not make them go through the hassle of docking just to drop him off. He stepped down off the padd, his duffel back slung over his left shoulder and approached the console. He was not in uniform yet, wanting to make sure he showed up in one that still looked perfect, and not creased, or wrinkled from sitting. As such he was wearing a pair of jeans, some old knock-around boots, and a black tank top, and a single silver chain around his neck with his Academy class ring on it, nestled in his thick, black chest hair. His olive skin, and his general physical makeup gave the impression that he was human, probably Italian, or Middle Eastern, but his sheer height, and bulk, made that less than likely.

Walking up to the woman manning the controls he smiled, "Cadet Torak, requesting permission to come aboard." he stated in his deeply resonant voice. "Of course, Cadet. Are you familiar with the layout of Starbase 118, or shall I call someone to help you find your way around?" she asked. "I'll be fine, thanks. I studied a few of the maps I was given before leaving Earth, I think I knew where the most important parts of the station are. But there is one thing you can do for me." he answered. "What's that, Cadet?" she asked. "Recommend a good place to eat..." he said, trailing off at the end. For the past several days on the scout ship he'd been having to eat what everyone else ate, and to say that they didn't have the best taste in food would have been an understatement, and that wasn't even mentioning the meagre portion sizes. With a good natured chuckle the woman replied, "Head down to the commercial sector, and look for Raul's. It's a really nice place, very laid back, good Mexican food. I think you'll like it. But stay away from the bar. He doesn't believe in synthehol and you are due in the holodeck in less then four hours." she said, adding the friendly warning with a knowing smile.

Less than twenty minutes later he found himself walking into the commercial sector, and asking for directions from one of the kiosks that dotted the sprawling area. Turned out he had a bit of a trek to find his way to the right section, and so he set about looking at all the station had to offer while he walked. There were shops from just about every culture he could imagine, and he noticed one that definitely caught his eye. It was filled with all things Klingon, from books of poetry, to "cookware", and even several authentic weapons. He was actually a bit surprised, and decided to step inside. As he did so he was enveloped by the scents of his childhood, the same smells he'd grown up with in his mother's home. Looking around he noticed several dak-taghs with blank spots for stamping with house sigils, and approached the counter. A few seconds later an elderly Klingon man stepped out from the shadows at the back of the store. "Finest quality, and I can stamp them while you wait." he said, and then noticed that his customer wasn't Klingon. "Or not, if you prefer." he said, giving Torak a bit of a sour look. Torak gave him a bit of a strange smile and held out his arm, palm up, to show off the house sigil emblazoned in black and red ink on the inside of his forearm. "My mother's house is a proud one, merchant. I'd prefer to carry the knife stamped with it, than one without." he said, taking great pride in the look of shock on the other man's face.

Walking out of the store a few minutes later with his new purchase, as well as a gift for his mother, a book of new Klingon poetry, he continued his trek in search of food.

Quick Facts:

Name: Torak

Age: 23

Race: Human/Klingon

Height: 6'7"

Weight: 278 lbs

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Black

Distinguishing Marks: Scalp tattoo, sigil of his mother's house on his right inner forearm

Physical Appearance: Torak is tall, and heavily muscled. He has olive skin, and dark eyes. His hair is black, but kept shaved, or closely trimmed to show off his scalp tattoo, and he is a rather hirsute man, with black hair also on his arms, legs, chest, and belly. He has a strong jaw, and heavy brows that give him a somewhat menacing appearance.

Demeanor: A child of two worlds Torak is sometimes a walking contradiction. Raised by his Klingon mother to be almost fanatical about honor, and the defense of those he loves, and the things he cares about, he was also taught by his Human father to ensure that there were no other ways out of a situation before resorting to violence. He tends to be methodical, and pensive, though when needs be he can be ruthlessly efficient and exhibit a winner takes all attitude. Steadfast, and loyal, he is an exemplary officer, and a fast friend to those he feels deserve it.

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Hello Everyone! Looks like I'm slated for the next academy class. I'm looking forward to it. Here is a small intro.

((Shuttlecraft Free Flight)

Alex was not a stranger to space flight. He was a Starfleet brat and had been aboard a few ships in his lifetime. His family tried to give him a stable childhood, but the life of Starfleet officer was an adventurous one. His father, an accomplished science officer, always wanted Alex to fit into his shoes as a scientist. Alex was more like his mother and had a knack for piloting and weapons. Alex did not lack a scientific aptitude, but it was more like a hobby then a vocation. He was petitioned by his instructors at the academy to study medicine, but Alex turned down the offer at dismay of his father. His family was proud of him nonetheless.

As the shuttle approached SB118, Alex looked out of the view screen with much satisfaction. He could see countless shuttles and starships coordinating in what seemed as an intricate ballet of majestic giants.

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With one arm positioned against the wall of the hallway leading away from the airlock, Shrega sh'Kaakror looked at the transparent aluminum, seeing her own reflection and that of the engineer behind her, who was frantically working on the doors to the turbolift. Her antennae were pointed slightly backwards, almost like the ears of an agitated animal. It had been extremely warm on the transport vessel, they'd said it was because of some minor technical fault in the system, but none of the other humanoids on board seemed to mind. Even after all the time spent away from her home planet, she had never quite gotten used to the warm temperature most others liked. The largest part of times she could find ways to avoid extreme heat and generally slept in a colder place as well, but being confronted with a complete sensory overload like the one on the transport vessel had disoriented her quite a bit.

With a short sigh, Shrega pushed herself away from the wall and stood upright, at the same moment that the human engineer stood up and wiped off his hands. "Sorry about the wait, you can use the lift now! It took a bit longer than usual because I needed to replace some components too, since some parts of it got upgraded." he explained, and the Andorian shen-female nodded. "Though we're running smoothly, we always need more people. You for engineering?" Shrega looked at him, confused for a moment, but then realized what he meant and shook her head. 'Oh, no. Security.' she quickly said. He nodded. "Should've guessed, you have pretty broad shoulders for an Andorian." The human picked up his tools with a grunt and started walking down the hallway. "Well, good luck, cadet!" he said as he passed her, and she gave him a polite nod. 'Thanks, you too' Shrega quickly entered the turbolift, and was swiftly on her way to the level where the holodeck she was supposed to be at was located.

As soon as she stepped out of the lift, she realized she was much too early for the appointment, despite the waiting she had to do at the turbolift door. For a moment she stood there, looking around and unsure of what to do next. It was busy here, there were shops with all kinds of goods to sell -mainly food, though- and creatures of a wide variety of races standing around. Some were sitting at a table alone, either resting or working on something on a padd, while others were conversing in small groups. Shrega quickly pulled out a chair to rest on and folded her arms before putting them on the table. Normally, she'd probably be more interested in the things going on around her, but she knew she needed to get some rest after the exhausting heat from the transport if she wanted to be at her best later today. With her antennae as close to her head as possible so they'd pick up as little sensory signals, she watched her enviroment using just her eyes. It was significantly less effective, which annoyed her greatly, but also less exhausting if she wanted to recharge.

She seemed to be in the 'human city' part of the commercial sector, and it definitely wasn't hard to recognize. Though there were a few klingons nearby, and a vulcan seemed to be selling wares further off, most people doing business had the pink-to-brown skin hues and round ears commonly seen with the terrans. The humanoid closest to her had something called 'potato salad' on the menu, and she thought for a moment. She still had more than enough time to get something eat, and not consuming anything for as long as she had would make any andorian feel annoyed and aggressive. In a human enviroment, that probably wasn't the best for her reputation. Shrega pushed herself up with her arms from her chair and walked off to get the exotic-sounding salad.

[Name:] Shrega sh'Kaakror

[Species:] Andorian (100%)

[Gender:] Shen female

[Physical appearance:] Shrega definitely isn't above the average Andorian height, and maybe even slightly below it. However, this 'lost height' seems to have been accounted for in her broad shoulders and muscle mass. She has a small scar underneath her left eye from a past incident, and her blue skin and pale hair aren't much different from those of any member of her race. Unlike the rest of her appearance, her eyes do seem to have a bit of the 'gracefulness' an outsider would expect from Andorians. She doesn't have any unusual heritage mixed in her bloodline, she's hundred percent andorian, it's just that she has a bit of a different build.

Sepek walked into Yem-tukh, and he couldnt help feeling nostalgic. It reminded him of home back on Vulcan. As he looked around for a place to sit he was reminded he wasn't a "true" Vulcan.

His father was a human named Ryan while his mother a Vulcan named T'pri. He was shorter than the average Vulcan standing at 1.75 meters (5'9"). He had strawberry blonde hair, hazel eyes, and of course the pointed ears.

Because of his strange appearance it was difficult to form connections with other Vulcan children. He felt like the outcast, and the other children teased him relentlessly. As he aged he learned to control and suppress his emotions like every other child, and eventually the other kids just accepted him as is.

He sat down on the tan carpet at an empty table. There was no need to glance at the menu he already knew what he was going to order. It was his favorite meal since he was 12, and he was 29 at this moment. Pla-savas, a sweet blueish-black fruit, with Theris-masu, a herbal tea, to drink. The Vulcan waiter walked over and took his order quietly as not to disturb the other guests.

After finishing his meal he decided to go to the holodeck where he would being his training at. After all, he spent years at the Academy to finally get to this point. It would be illogical and unacceptable to be late.

Edited January 27, 2017 by SepekI wasn't finished when I dropped my phone and accidentally published.

Ji-hu had opted for the more scenic arrival to StarBase 118. After a final visit to his parents and a short flight from Seoul to San Francisco, he’d boarded a civilian transport, but found the majority of the passengers were veteran StarFleet returning to the base.

A Tellarite woman had probably noticed how freaked out he looked and made smalltalk as the ship shot toward the Trinity Sector. She was a science officer, and had several opinions on one of her Vulcan crew mates, who was in engineering. Ji-hu couldn’t figure out if the Tellarite considered the Vulcan an old friend or a mortal enemy. If he was honest with himself, he was distracted by her… everything. Even at the Academy he'd had few conversations with Tellarites.

Ji-hu had never seen so many different kinds of non-humans in his life. He’d gone to school with a few half-Vulcans and even a half-Klingon but compared to folks en route to StarBase Seoul was like a backwater village in 17th century northern Russia. He kicked himself for double majoring and avoiding so many social invitations. He felt like a total rube.

Space flight took some getting used to, as well. His mother had a fear of flight, which meant that he’d mostly vacationed on the Korean peninsula, or around Earth with his father, but because of his mother’s phobia and his father’s disinterest, the Chois had never been off world. That morning he’d thought of himself as really brave, the first from his immediate family to step aboard a starship. Now he was mostly just looking forward to some semblance of planetary life.

After the Tellarite had grown weary of Ji-hu’s cowed, non-argumentative disposition and zero informed opinions on Vulcan personalities she’d nodded off. He put on his headphones and tried to grow used to travel by warp drive by listening to some ambient music. Speaking to his custom virtual intelligence was the only small comfort he figured he’d get over the next little while.

Then he saw a massive structure lurch into sight ahead, an infinite of stars glittering around it.

“We may be far away from home, but hell of a view, though, huh Turing?”

“Oh, sorry. My visual input is off.”

The StarBase seemed to come out of nowhere, all odd, geometric lights and circular architecture. As the ship flew closer the hive of activity became apparent; commercial ships, Starfleet vessels, freighters, short range vehicles buzzed about. The sheer size of the thing was incomprehensible.

“Turing, download every single public map of this place you can find.”

“Wouldn’t it be more fun to blindfold yourself, spin around three times and see where you end up?”

They were deposited at the dry dock, where Ju-hi immediately ducked into the washroom. Two Klingons were arguing over a blow-by-blow of what sounded like a gladiator-style fight to the death, but he had to assume that was the way Klingons talked about all fights, recreational or otherwise. From there he took a short-range transporter—his first time, no less—to the residential zone. He must have misspoken the command, because he suddenly found himself in the middle of New York City.

After a frantic conversation with an amused looking human woman in Starfleet uniform, he realized this was, in fact, a residential section of the StarBase’s enormous commercial zone.

“Do you need some help, sweetie?” she asked, her voice sugary with a thick southern twang of an American. He was mortified, she was speaking to him like he was a ten-year-old. “Need me to get you somewhere?”

Ji-hu took a deep, centring breath. “The only thing I want right now is the greasiest food on this star base.”

She wrote down her directions with good old fashioned pen and paper, and after a twenty minute walk and a quick word to his server at The Greasy Spoon he had the biggest plate of kimchi fries he’d ever seen in front of him.

Turing’s cool voice buzzed in his ear, “Just the thing to get you started on your new career at Starfleet. Ten thousand calories worth of junk food. Can't wait for that physical aptitude test, meatsack.”

Ji-hu grinned, glancing around at the mix of non-humans and humans pigging out around him. He could take some small comfort that, if there’s one thing that unified them all, it was greasy junk food. “Turing, I’m suddenly feeling much more optimistic.”

*

Quick Facts:

Name: Choi Ji-hu

Age: 22

Race: Human

Height: 5'9

Weight: 140 lbs

Eyes: Dark brown

Hair: Black, shaggy

Physical Appearance: Ji-hu is scrawny, wiry and woefully out of shape, as he jokes a "typical nerd build." He has wide, bright, curious eyes, a bit of a baby face and is quick to smile.

Demeanor: Ji-hu is the kind of person who would put more work into being lazy than it would take to do the work he needs to. As a teenager he did everything in his power to fully automate his education, which taught him more about programming, computational systems and mathematics than he ever would have learned if he just paid attention and did his homework. While he considers himself an old-style "white hat" hacker, he loves poking around where his nose doesn't belong. He may not realize it, but this insatiable curiosity is actually a belief that essential knowledge should be free and open to all.

Anath G'Renn sat at a small table at 8x8, a cup of coffee sitting by her right hand. But the primary focus of her attention was the chess board set up on the table in front of her, the only thought in her mind being what her next move should be. The chess clock was running out, and the tellarite across the board was eagerly awaiting his next turn. The rook, that was the key. She picked up the metal piece and slid it into position, blocking off the last path of escape for her opponent's king. The tellarite knew he was beat, and tipped his king, having no way to stop what would no doubt be checkmate the next move. "A thoroughly enjoyable game, a rematch!" he said, already resetting the board.

"I'm sorry, but I really should be making my way back to the holodeck. I don't think it would make a good impression if I got there late after boarding three hours early!" Anath replied, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and pushing in her chair. The small ring of observers dispersed, and cleared a way for her to leave.

"If you wind up getting stationed here full time, let me know whenever you want a rematch!" her opponent called out as she headed for the door. All Anath managed in reply was a short wave as she stepped out onto the streets of the Shi'Kahr district of the commercial level. After briefly consulting a map of the level, she turned away from the shop and set off to catch a turbolift. Visiting the game shop and playing a few rounds of chess was a fun diversion, but it wasn't the reason she was here. After four years and more than a bit of strife, Anath was finally ready for her training cruise. The journey had not been an easy one.

Anath had only herself to blame for a lot of her troubles. Most of the problems she had came from her conflicting natures. Her mother was a vulcan scholar. Quiet, thoughtful, and always ready to play a nice game of chess. Her father on the other hand was a klingon field medic. He would often tell Anath stories of how his colleagues never accepted his decision to aid the wounded over face the enemy on the battlefield, a struggle she knew all too well. When some people saw her long, unkempt hair and distinctive forehead ridges, they expected her to act like a Klingon. Whether they realized it or not, they had certain expectations of what to expect just by her appearance. Not high on that list of expectations however, was medical student and chess master. Anath's klingon side didn't really take over unless she was really and truly angry, a state of mind she was in more frequently than she'd like. But the final stretch of training between her and a Starfleet commission was not a time to be angry. She managed to find the right turbolift, and straightened her uniform as the car rushed upward towards her destination. "Cadet cruise, it can't be that hard..." was the only thought that came to mind as the turbolift slowed to a stop.

After arrival Sorel just did not really know what to do. He was not prepared for free time. Finally being here, he realised he did not feel prepared for anything. He started wandering, his feet taking him to crowded areas he'd rather not be at. His black eyes sought the crowd for any other cadets, but they seemed to have left the area without him. He licked his eternally dry lips, trying to find something a little more quiet to stop his sensitive Vulcan ears from overloading him with unneeded conversations brought over as jumbled up words in too many languages.

The hybrid went with the flow of the crowd, just walking until his eyes fell on a small café unlike the many shops he found in this area. He went inside, sighing contently as the lack of a crowd inside the café. Before he even took two steps inside, a maid had appeared before him. She was unsurprisingly towering over him. Sadly, Sorel had inherited no apparent height from his parents and stood at a little 166cm. He estimated the female, who seemed to be human, to stand at least 20 centimeters taller. "Table for one, sir?" She spoke as if he was a little child, entering a café for the first time without his mother, which would be an illogical conclusion, given Sorel was 21 by now. "Yes please", he answered with a raised eyebrow as he concentrated on the woman in front of him. He could sense annoyance, exhaustion and irritation from her. He continued making observations as he followed her to a table in the corner. Over-worked, became a mother at a young age, works double shifts to sustain her child. By the time he sat down, he understood her belittling attitude, though he saw no logic as in why her situation would evoke such behaviour. "What shall it be?" Her smile was forced. "Green tea with some honey and a teaspoon of respect, if that is not too much to ask for." His expression was blank except for the hint of a smug grin on his lips. The woman huffed, simply trying to act polite again even though her scowl gave her unfriendliness away.

Satisfied with his little display, he sat more relaxed in his seat, feeling the tension leave his shoulders. He tried to remember the last time he slept properly. He knew Vulcans could easily do with the one hour sleep per night he had been getting the past two weeks, but he tended to forget he was only half-Vulcan. The exhaustion got to him and he felt his control over his body falter as the nervousness and exhaustion made him loose his grip on his pain management. He winced almost inaudibly when he started feeling the pain in his neck. It was just chronic pain and therefore manageable, but when he was under pressure, his body management wore thin and he needed something to help him along in functioning.

The woman returned with a steaming cup of tea and he immediately asked for a glass of water too. She walked back with visible annoyance. If his half-brother Sonn was here, he would have given her a piece of his mind. Actually, mother would have too. She would've blatantly announced that whole woman's life to whoever was in the café. Father would probably just mutter insults under his breath. In that way Sorel was a little more like his father.

- no proper ending, but it is 1:30am and I am too tired to continue T_T-

He looked up at the pastel shaded sky, subtle hues of purples, blues and reds. The sweet scent of pine trees danced around him, the warm glow of an afternoon sun bathed his face and arms.

None of it was real. When he opened his eyes, he would be back to where he now found himself. Back to the sound of a million conversations, to the numerous souls that flitted about and around him. All had a purpose, everyone with somewhere to be, someone to talk with.

Don’t open your eyes.

He wondered where Niko was, what planet his feet had landed upon, the people, species and enemies he had met. The last time that they had met, three summers past, Niko had aged. He seemed to carry an invisible burden about him, slowly crushing him. Even when he laughed or smiled, his eyes betrayed him. He was haunted. He wondered if Niko knew he was even here, that he had signed up. No word had been heard for over a year now. All attempts to extract the slightest hint or clue as to his whereabouts or safety were met with stone cold, bureaucratic silence. Confidential, classified.

Don’t open your eyes.

Had he met the correct choice? He seemed to ask himself this question upon the opening of his eyes through to when slumber took him. But here he was and no amount of wishing or pleading could wrench the hands of time back to that moment of choice. Even for someone of a young age, a sense of fatalism had been growing within him through the years. His parents had been lost many years ago and if something happened to him, where was the harm? Some called it reckless, stupid, foolhardy.That sixty foot leap into the sea, taking on seven meat heads all at once at Dina’s birthday party, climbing Mason’s Point without a rope.He’d taken a beating each time, but he was still alive.Nothing had killed him, broken bones healed, cuts left scars and he yearned for the odds to be stacked against him.The merchant fleet had claimed Yevgeny and Miralim but it simply did not appeal to him. He wanted to mirror the steps of Niko. There, he had said it. He wanted to forge his own tales, his own future but he knew that his own fate was to be intertwined with that of his brother.

Don’t open your eyes.Don’t open…..

Eyes open. Gone were the sky and trees, replaced with the monochrome grey of his quarters within Starbase 118. Forty eight hours had lapsed since he had disembarked the shuttle craft and he had stepped inside a new journey.

Desmond couldn't help but smile when looking around. Sure he both heard about it from people who previously been here and read it every where how it was one of the biggest achievements, and standing here in the middle of all of it he was more than likely to agree. He was in the San Francisco district, he needed the familiarity especially since he didn't really know when's the next time he'd be able to see anything similar to earth, projections not included.. Familiarity was safe it also meant less chance of creating trouble by doing something you weren't aware you're not allowed to.

Since his shuttle had arrived too early, few hours to be approximate, he's been loosed on the station and left to his own devices. Thus he allowed to visit museums, catch up on various plays, maybe even catch a movie. Out of everything available to him he went with a cold beer. The pub was something out of a museum so it counted like increasing your knowledge of culture and history and hey Desmond was always intrigued by old things so this place was right up his alley. The good drinks was just a bonus, he just hoped there wouldn't be a medical or anything like that today.

He threw his head back and took another gulp, his brown eyes scanning the crowd, his training from the academy still sharp in his mind, never truly stopping paying attention even if he did portray someone careless. One of the first lessons were one of acting, trying to fool everyone around you that you're less observant or skilled than you truly are, of course his teachers never really mentioned if alcohol should be real or not in this cases so Desmond decided to make that judgement on his own, plus who would be idiotic enough to try anything dangerous on this base.

Finishing his beer he stood up and thanked the barman. Moving his hand through his messy brown hair Desmond smiled and moved out of the pub. He guessed he wasted enough time and the guys in charge should be ready for him. Desmond just had to remember to buy something for his breathe and hoped that by walking most of the alcohol would just leave his body. He began an unsteady walk towards the headquarters.

For the sixth time, Colleen absently glanced over the orders on her PADD. She'd memorized them already, knew the exact timeline for the next two days -- maybe not down to the second, but close enough. Arrive in the middle of the night (23:17), check in (23:32) and get a bunk (23:35). Cadet Orientation started in less than thirty six hours (09:00, day after tomorrow), so she had a day and a half to get herself together. Tomorrow, she had to go and check in with Station Medical for one last checkup (11:30). It wasn't like it was all that much to remember, and not being assigned beyond Cadet Orientation left her with almost a sense of boredom. 'Course, flying with her parents for ten years had left her with all manners of ways to get up to trouble when not busy, but... not a time to fall back on that.

The rumble of engines and the very, very brief sense of nausea told her that the Pegasus had dropped out of warp, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the Executive Officer's voice came over the speakers.

“All hands, we are approaching Starbase One-One-Eight. Set Condition Blue throughout the ship.”

Colleen stood and threw the couple of items she'd taken out of her pack, back into said pack, and zipped it up. She checked her appearance in the mirror of her small temporary quarters, smoothing the long dress, and sighed. Multiple surgeries, years of hormones, and somehow her body still wasn't... perfect. “Yes, well, that's how life goes,” she muttered to herself. Slinging the pack across her back, she checked the small room one more time — nothing left. Time to go.

The queue in the hallway to the airlock was mercifully short, and she snagged a handhold as the ship decelerated. Old habits die hard... CLANG. The ship jolted a bit as it locked into the Starbase's grip. Apparently that old habit wasn't such a bad one after all. Colleen threw a small glare in the direction of the Bridge and the helm officer.

It wasn't much longer before the airlock opened and the smells and sounds of the starbase drifted into the Pegasus' hallway. The smells of ships, civilian and Starfleet, the sounds of shouted voices and various vehicles driving about... Colleen smiled. It'd been a while.

As the passengers ahead of her filed off, she adjusted the straps of her pack, making sure it was sitting correctly and wasn't going anywhere, and moved ahead. A glance at the chrono — 23:27. Basically on time. Eventually, she made it to the customs desk, where she pulled the small PADD out of the pocket of her dress and put it on the table, thumbing it on.

The Petty Officer, Second Class that was sitting at the desk glanced over the PADD, entered a few things into his terminal, and nodded, looking up at her finally. “Permission granted, Cadet. Your room assignment —” he gestured at her PADD — “and other information has been sent to you. Welcome to Starbase One Eighteen.”

“Thank you, Petty Officer,” she responded, smiling.

She picked up the PADD, slipped it into her dress pocket again, and began the walk to the nearest turbolift shaft. Once inside the lift, and against one of the walls — her paranoia never left — she pulled the PADD out once again and thumbed it on. With a quick check over the new information (room assignment, standard welcome from the Base CO, information on where to report Monday morning), she reset her destination for the turbolift. Considering that she wasn't hungry, and she hadn't slept since last night, it was time to go get some sleep.

Fifteen minutes and a couple of turbolift switches later, Colleen arrived at her temporary quarters. With a deep breath, she stepped forward, identified herself, and the door slid open, allowing her entrance. The quarters were mercifully silent, and she stepped in quickly, allowing the door to quietly swish shut behind her. After a moment of allowing for her eyes to adjust, she made her way to the second bedroom door, and let herself in. A roommate — another female member of Starfleet (thank goodness they hadn't fraked that up this time) — was snoring softly in the first room, with the door open. Colleen would introduce herself in the morning.

When the door shut behind her, she spoke, “Computer: Lights, twenty five percent.” As the lights came up to a low glow, she looked over the room — standard quarters for a Starfleet junior officer. Could have been worse. The pack hit the ground, and Colleen crashed on the bed.

Cadet Dominic Reed stepped off of the transport and onto the arrival platform at Starbase 118. Checking his PADD, he noticed that he was not due to meet with his training officer for another two hours, so he decided to spend some time in the New Orleans sub-district. After doing a little sight-seeing, he decided to grab a bite to eat. Since there was not a Sisko's restaurant available, Dominic settled on a Cajun restaurant call Bien Vendredi. The gumbo and crawfish etouffe were pretty tasty and the mint julep went down smooth.

Shortly after finishing his meal, Dominic received a message on his PADD. It was from Lt. Mitchell, his training officer, asking him to report to him on the Promenade. He proceeded to there as quickly as possible without trying to look like he was in a hurry. A few minutes later, he arrived to check in. "Cadet Dominic Reed, reporting for duty, sir", he said, somewhat out of breath.

"At ease, Cadet. We have plenty of time. Orders, please", Lt. Mitchell said. Dominic handed over his PADD and Mitchell reviewed it. After pressing a few buttons, he replied, "Okay, Reed, you are officially checked in. Your quarters are Apartment 543 on Deck 789. Get some rest; you're gonna need it in the morning. We'll assemble here at 0600."

Dominic thanked him and proceeded to his assigned quarters. Upon arrival, he saw that his roommate, a Ferengi, had already settled in. "Cadet Dominic Reed. Good to meet you, Cadet...?"

"Cadet Grek. Good to meet you, Reed", he responded with a eager handshake. "I can't wait to get started on our training cruise. My specialty is Tactical. How about you?"

"I am also trained in Tactical. I don't blame you for being excited; I am, too. Who knows, maybe we'll be lucky enough to be assigned to the same ship after the training cruise."

"That sounds nice", Grek said.

The two roommates spent most of the night getting to know each other a little more before 'Taps' at 2200 hours. Dominic somehow knew he and Grek would become good friends.

Cadet Lukas Vukovic sat back in his seat aboard the transport shuttle that took him to Starbase 118. He sighed and scratched the right side of his neck. The stubble poking through his skin was itchy. He decided to let himself go a bit, even though he’d always been clean shaven in his four years at the Academy. The irritation would pass as his stubble grew longer. That ridge on his nose though, from his Bajoran side--that always irritated him. He ran his finger up and down the bridge of his nose.

“Attention, we will be docking with Starbase 118 in a few moments,” the pilot’s disembodied voice filtered through the passenger cabin.

Lukas quelled the butterflies in his stomach and got his pack ready. When the transport docked, Lukas disembarked. He headed for the nearest restroom, but wasn’t quite ready for the hustle and bustle of the station. He grew up in Oakland, the lesser known “can-do” Bay Area city alongside San Francisco. That was a city. He knew its grind and flow. This, this station was something else entirely. It took him five minutes just to get through all the people in the docking bay.

Once inside the restroom, he occupied a sink and dropped his pack. Cupping his hands over running water, he splashed it on his face and looked at himself. Slate eyes, high cheek bones, and large ears filled out his entirely average oval shaped face. His skin still possessed a slight olive tan, despite spending most of his time not under the light of a star of any type. His kept his charcoal colored hair buzzed, running into the growing stubble on his face.

He’d made it. He’d really made it. After his father saying he was a trouble maker not good enough for Starfleet, and his mother saying he belonged in the service of the Prophets, he’d proven them both wrong. Now all he had to do was finish his cadet cruise and he’d be posted to a ship. Sure, he’d patch things up with his dad, especially since Lukas had proven him wrong. He wasn’t so sure about his mom. He never really talked to her anymore anyway, since she decided to move back to Bajor. He didn’t really have any other friends to share in his accomplishment. He hoped he’d make new ones on whatever posting he was given.

Standing straight at his full hundred-eight-five centimeters, he slung his pack over his shoulder. He was still early, as he didn’t need to report in yet, so he decided to follow a computerized guide and take a lift up to the New York District, as he’d had enough with San Francisco and didn’t feel like trying anything too exotic. After fighting his way through foot traffic so bad he almost thought he really was in Manhattan, Lukas came to a diner called the Greasy Spoon. He ordered a hockey puck and a pair of drawers, hoping they didn’t burn it too badly. It turned out to be tasty, well-done but still juicy and sealed-in flavor. The coffee was so-so, but it was a diner.

When he was done, he checked the time. He still had enough minutes to take his time to the holodeck and report in. Stomach full, he slung his pack over his shoulder and whistled an old tune, walking through the mimicry of Manhattan towards his future.

Mattheus Fullus looked around as he stepped off the transport. The time was drawing near when he would graduate and officially become a part of the fleet. This was what he had always wanted but not to be a pilot or captain or something like that. His idea of serving in the fleet was to be a grunt, to serve as the first line of defense or offense when needed to protect those higher ups on missions.

Standing at 6ft4 with a slim build he didn't look like a typical grunt but he knew he could handle it. His brown eyes searched his surroundings looking for somewhere to eat. As he pushed his shoulder length dark brown wavy hair out of his eyes (maybe a haircut at some stage) he saw what looked like a cafe nearby. Striding over he mentally prepared himself for the training to come.

The day has finally come, the future awaits...my future that is. Harold takes a gander around the transport vessel that he is on and finds that there are many conflicting emotions running through him. He should be excited about this new phase of his life, but at the same time terrified that he will find a way to screw it up. The situation from the very beginning was not of my own choosing... joining Star Fleet that is.

The casual observer will undoubtedly discern that Mr. Turak is most assuredly human with the shape of a man that is fit from all the training that Harold has gone through for the last four years. Some nervous ticks are trying to be subdued through focusing on his holo-reader. From Harold's reckless legs to be out and about and probably one thing is predominately going through his head at the moment... lets get this over with. You see, to understand the Turak family is to understand that we have a family legacy going back generations of Navy officers, to Star Fleet commanders like my Grandfather, to if truth is to be reliable... a history of pirates. That of course, was way back in the family lineage to be sure, but no son can buck this tradition in this family. Hence, why the nervousness because there will be hell to pay if I do not eventually become an officer.

A cold and smooth voice is heard on the overhead of the transport shuttle, " Attention passengers, we are on final approach, so please be courteous to the others around you. Be ready to disembark in ten minutes, and welcome to Star Base 118. That is all."

As the transport shuttle arrives, Harold lets the other passengers precede him to the exit. He is not really that tall when everything is said in done, all of 5'9" with maybe an extra inch from these dress shoes. His wiry frame usually has people underestimate his true strength. Definitely not strong, but one of the few things that I did excel at is that i can withstand endurance challenges with the best of them, both mental and physical. The first real smile comes to Harold's face when he gets out of the shuttle and onto the starbase. I can deal without the tests, but there is just something about the bustling of people of all different species that gets the blood pumping.

A clock displays that the shuttle made some good time and not to many stops along the way and still have some time to explore the star base before a debriefing and how this Cadet Cruise is going to start. My Father and Grandfather both give a go ahead into my head as there last departing advice was given when I was given the notice that I would be arriving at Star Base 118. " Know thy ship, people are all well and good, but the journey is one through space. Know what your ship can do, but most importantly what it can't do" ... easy for him to say. My father is a shipwright by trade after the academy. Grandfather gave the more direct approach to things saying," Every Journey is a beginning, trust in your crew and mates, they will be the ones with the knowledge you don't. Plus, without them you would probably go insane, Turak or not."

Harold Turak stands at an intersection with his travel bag in one hand and his holo-reader in the other. "Take a deep breath, you Turak, and don't screw this up," you can hear Harold mutter as he gives a big sigh. Im already 23, but this is the intersection in my life at the moment. What path to take, what side of the family do you lean, but more importantly then ever this is my decision. Harold then braces his shoulders, starts to take long confident strides, only to find himself in a maintenance closet five minutes later.

I must carve out my own path in life and best not anyone hear about this first adventure to maintenance. First things first, find a map, find a drink, and find thy self.

Kathryn was looking around anxiously amazed that she had actually got to the starbase earlier than planned. A soft smile played her features while her eyes remained with the gray to them. She would head to reception area to find out where she would need to go. She looks around softly trying to keep to herself and focus on the days ahead. She was excited but also nervous to see what this new life would bring. She held tightly to her necklace which was a family tree with five birthstones in it. She couldn't let it go as she approached the desk.

At least, she assumed she was nervous, it was hard to tell really. Ironic, half of her was meant to be incredibly empathetic, able to easily detect and act upon the emotions and even thoughts of others. The other half of her had one of humanity's cruelest flaws, the lack of feelings about oneself. She usually found herself perched at one of either extremes. Either extremely high, or unable to tell where her true feelings even lay. Someone she could not control what she said from the sheer joy of experiencing another culture, of meeting another being, of making a new friend. At other times she could not control what she said do to the fact that she could not judge her own mood.

Thanks Mom.

She thought to herself sarcastically. Indeed, it was from her mother's side that she had inherited this flaw. For a moment she mused on how her father, a Betazoid, had fallen for her Mother, an emotionally damaged human. Perhaps it was a case of opposites attract. Someone who could feel everything, attracted to someone who could feel nothing. And Vice Versa.

It mattered little now, or maybe it did? How could she know. Who was she to know?

She felt herself growing inexplicably angry for a moment, almost fracturing the screen of the padd in her hand. She closed her eyes and breathed for a moment, trying to relax herself. She stood up, walked around a little, loosed up her tense muscles. She was tense. Definitely nervous.

She realized she'd been sitting in the reception area of the Starbase for over an hour, lost in her own thoughts. If someone was watching, that certainly wouldn't inspire confidence. She realized the receptionist had been warily eyeing her for some time now. She didn't blush, walking up to her as if she had just stepped off the shuttle a second ago, rather than sat there for over an hour without comment.

"Cadet T'vete." She stated. Her voice sound so shaky to her, like it always did the first time she spoke to someone.

Focus Girl, Focus. Get through the day, and when they give you a bunk, you can curl up in that and write out your problems. Things always make more sense on paper. Besides, did you really get this far only to give up?

"I'm reporting to Starbase 118 for Completion of my Cadet Phase, Training, as a Cadet" She said, fumbling over her words. She closed her eyes for a second, before realizing she was still in a conversation, opening them again to focus on the receptionist, a Vulcan.

Great. A Vulcan. Someone who'd be happy to belittle you for your emotional fumblings. You're making a resounding Impression, Revvy.

The Vulcan said nothing, updating her padd remotely with new instructions. Nodding curly, Rev'ya realized she was being sent on her way.

Fine with me.

She thought, following along the path directed to her in the instructions, entering into Starbase 118.

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Guest Enter Matt Belle

Guest Enter Matt Belle

Matt stared at the unfamiliar planets that passed by. It was strange that this was home: Sol. He thought it might bring back memories... But nothing came to him.

Matt switched his gaze to his reflection in the glass. He had come far from his counseling sessions. AVvarians are corrupted by misdeeds and malice. The evil actions he did while he was a slave, the torture he inflicted, the mental telepathic assaults he scarred people with... Had been... *FUN* no! Matt pushed the thought away... Lucian loves the dark... Loved the malice, had embraced it, strived on it... Fed on if.

When star fleet had found him, his wings had turned to a midnight black as had the color from his eyes. The black orbs that were his eyes were more then sinister... They pierced and invaded others thought with reckless abandon.

Matt had come far, but whatever his past might have been... He only had a few pieces to the puzzle that was his life. What filled in the rest of the pieces was the black void of Lucian.

Matt closed his eyes and felt the conflict rising in himself once more. Felt a familiar snarl on his lips. When his opened they appeared black. Lucian was taking hold again. Matt fought.

We are not evil. Matt said resisting

*no... We are not... We just want to have some fun...*

there is nothing wrong with a little fun Matt said to himself.

*no there's not.* Lucian cooed.

We always had fun... Matt said to himself sounding a little malevolent.

*YES*

Matt gripped the frame that houses the glass of the window when he saw it: Earth.

"that's home. We're home. Wait... No... I am home."

*we..*

"Stop." Matt said firmly once again in control. That has been the strongest assault to date. Lucian wasn't getting weaker like Matt hoped... It felt like they were becoming one... Matt held onto the sight in front of him. The blue waters and white wispy clouds of his home.

He boarded the shuttle and reached into his pack. He pulled out a neon fish hat with eyes that wiggled when he walked and put it on.

Name: Matthew Jett Belle
Race: AVvar/ Terran
Age: 32 years
Height: 6'4
Weight: 175 Pounds
Identifying Features: Two large golden wings on back.
Build: Muscular, athletic.
Appearance: Matt has deep blue eyes and longer brown hair that usually gets obstructed by one of his odd neon animal hats. He has a square jaw and a tuft of hair under his lower lip that usually dons a care free smile. His uniform is open on his back to allow his wings movement. Despite his large frame he is light. As his bones are hollow to allow for him to take flight.

History: Matt recently finished a tour on the IKO Foothold star base. He was a counselor on the USS Endeavor prior to the Foothold. However despite a sterling decade long service history reaching Lt Commander and numerous field medals: Matt remembers little of it. He was abducted for over a year and the experiences surrounding it forced Matt to suppress his memory. He even adopted another personality, Lucian, to cope with the torture and strain. Through extensive counseling fragments of his past have surfaced but Lucian is still a part of him. Matt found himself back at the academy to refresh his Star Fleet knowledge and get deeper counseling.

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Guest Liam Ryan Hawks

Guest Liam Ryan Hawks

It's been something that every cadet of the starfleet academy was dreaming. "The cadet cruise", the last part of his training before he become an active member of the star fleet. For Liam, a boy from New Austin, TX. this was more than he was expecting, it was a dream come true, all the stories that he was hearing from his father when he was in the star fleet. The boy look around him, he was there for more than an hour and he had to prepare himself before his meeting with the commanding officer of the base and his briefing about his cruise. But he couldn't think anything that will make him look cool or something in front of the c.o. He walked around for a little more before the lcdr. who was responsible for him called him with his name. He felt his stomach heavy.

"All right Liam, calm down, for God shake you have faced all this in academy..." the boy thinked.

Liam walked and stand before the lcdr. right outside of the holodeck that he was about to get briefefd.

"Follow me cadet...." the lcdr said.

"Yes sir!" Liam replied.

The boy and the blonde lcdr. walked a few steps and stopped in front of the grey door.

"Good luck cadet." the lcdr. said.

"Thank you sir." Liam said.

The door opened and the boy walked through her. The room was... well let's just say that enormous is a fair word to describe it. In the center of the holodeck there was one man, not very tall, at least for Liam who was standing at 6.5". His hair was brown and his left eye has a great scar. He was standing there reading something. When the door closed he raised his head and looked at him.

"Approch cadet!" he said.

His voice was deep, calm, slow. For some reason that fact make Liam feel a little more sure about himself. He walked to the center of the holodeck.

"Ok cadet, talk to me about yourself." said the c.o.

"Well, my name is Liam Ryan Hawks. I am 23 years, i recently graduate from the academy as you may know and i am about to make my cadet cruise. I graduate from the command division with intelligence major. I also take the basic training with the starfleet marines and now here i am." Lia said.

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Guest Delan Han

Guest Delan Han

Delan Han looked out of the cabin window as the USS Caledonia swung around Star Base 118 to line up with its assigned berth. It had been a quiet and uneventful trip from Earth, which really just gave him time to be nervous. Everything was changing, and just a little too fast for Delan. Catching his reflection in the window he caught the worry lining his face. In practiced habit he scrubbed his face with his hands in an effort to work the tension out. His wife always claimed he would scrub his spots off one day, and he was starting to think she might be right.

After years in academia, the need for something more had finally won out, and Delan had joined the Academy. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave the world of research behind, but he had finally realized he needed a reason for it. The move from Trill to Earth was a shock, but he had his family with him and he was ok. At first the Academy wasn’t much different than grad school, classes, drive, long hours, and doing what you were told. But then things started to shift for him, in came the reason and purpose, the discipline and the vision. It was what he had wanted, but it was also the first time he had felt like he might be out of his depth in a very long time.

It took him some time but in the end he remembered when Taslin Han had been a marine with Starfleet. He remember just how fulfilling it had been for her, but also how hard. He remembered that he’d done it before, at least part of him, and he could do it again.

So now he found himself on the last leg of his academy life and, if he managed not to screw it up, would soon be an full Starfleet officer. Hopefully after that he could get permission for his family to join him at his posting.

Cadet David Martel stepped through the airlock into a busy open area. His was hardly the only transport arriving and the traffic in the arrival's section of the transportation hub was brisk. He blinked his green eyes to get adjusted to the noise of shouted questions and answers, the overhead loudspeaker booming arrival and departure information and the underlying buzz of conversation.

Without any further ado, Martel got his bearings and headed towards the massive round desk that was the central hub of the arrival area. Several Starfleet crewmen and NCOs manned the desk. Though the blonde haired cadet was built like a bulldog, he slipped through the crowd easily, gracefully sidestepping and weaving his way instead of bulling his way through.

In the chaos around the arrival desk, lines seemed to be more of a suggestion then an actual thing, so Cadet Martel continued weaving all the way to the desk, ignoring the annoyed squawk from an Aurelian Ensign he cut off who fluttered her wings in irritation while Martel pretended he didn't see.

None of the personnel behind the circular station even looked in his direction, even when he cleared his throat and politely called out. After a few more attempts he finally put his fingers to his lips a blew a shrill whistle that caused several heads to turn his direction.

This included a huge Borenite Chief Petty Officer. Standing well over 2 meters tall, heavily furred where his uniform didn't cover, the Chief looked like a massive, black haired bear, with all the muscles that entailed. He fixed Martel with a hard stare.

As the massive Borenite stalked towards him, Martel kept a respectful expression on his face. While technically Martel outranked the huge Chief, he was well aware that as a cadet he really didn't have any pull. Not to mention he didn't want to alienate anyone on the Starbase. They might come in handy later.

"What in the Frozen Wastes is your problem?" The massive Chief snarled.

Looking as apologetic as possible Martel replied, "I'm really sorry Chief, but my transport ran a bit late and I have less then an hour to check in and report to my in processing brief. I don't want to make a bad impression on my first day, ya' know?" Martel flashed a friendly smile.

"Well you made a rough first impression on me", the Chief grumbled, but his tone had softened a bit and he bent over a terminal, asking Martel his name and service number.

" Well kid, you need to go over to Holodeck 3 after you're done here. Oh, and if you ever whistle at me again I will make sure you regret it."

"Roger that, Chief.", Martel said looking properly subdued as the the Chief droned on about living assignments and requisition protocols. Martel was listening with only half an ear as he looked around the busy arrival terminal feeling a growing surge of excitement in his chest.

Hoping to become a Tactical Officer, David had put in the work and had excelled at the Academy, particularly in the courses with a martial bent. He was tough, determined and showed leadership potential. He just hoped he could show it here.

Martel refocused on the Chief just in time to hear the massive NCO ask him if he had any questions.

" Negative Chief, thank you", the cadet answered and with that he turned and quickly brushed past the still annoyed Aurelian Ensign as he headed towards the turbolifts.

'Let's do this', Martel thought to himself as the lift doors shut and he headed towards the next chapter in his life.

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Taryn opened her eyes slowly. Her head throbbed and her throat felt dry. The timeless side-effect of hanging out with the “cool kids” – or being the cool kid – was instantly recognizable. She couldn’t remember exactly who had sneaked the bottle of real alcohol into the station and the memories of the events of the past night was still very hazy, but there was only one reason for her to feel what she was feeling now. Hangover. And a massive one.

She rolled onto her stomach painfully and looked at the bed across from her. She sighed in relief when she saw that Stella was on her bunk. It’s true, she had seen better days. The other cadet was lying on what was probably a very uncomfortable position, the clothes she wore the previous night still on her lean body. Her short blond hair was all over the place and she’d probably have a hard time fixing it when she finally woke up.

Taryn wasn’t much better herself, to be honest. Like her bunkmate, she still had her terribly wrinkled clothes on.

“Computer”, she called, waiting for the chime before continuing, “Time”.

“It is now seven hours and thirty two minutes, station time”, the familiar voice answered.

“Stella, wake up”, she shouted, still lying down.

“Ugh… I think I was ran over by a ship…”, she heard Stella groan from across the room, as she woke up.

“Yeah”, Taryn said, sitting up slowly, “The USS Moonshine… Quite the way to celebrate the end of our last week as irresponsible cadets, huh?”

“Someone is feeling confident today”, Stella answered, getting up from her bunk and making her way to the replicator, “Computer, two glasses of water, very large, cold… Here you go”

Taryn eagerly stood up and took the glass from Stella’s hand, drinking it all in one go and earning a weird look from her colleague.

“What?” Taryn asked, shrugging, “I’m thirsty”.

“Clearly…”, the other cadet said, sitting back on her bunk and placing her palm on her temple, “You know, we could have done this when we got here, a week ago, instead of the day before our fracking test…”

“Don’t be silly, this is how you wanna show up to your final simulation”, Taryn said, dismissively as she walked back to the replicator and ordered another glass of water.

“Yeah, sure, being hung over is a great way to problem solve and stand out and stuff”, Stella answered, the sarcasm seeping through her words.

“Of course it is”, Taryn began, between gulps, “Come on, how many cadets come through here a year? A thousand? And how many of those are starry eyed, stuck up model Starfleet brats? Well, I’ll tell you how many this year, nine hundred and ninety eight”.

“And your point is?”

“Well, think about it. Who do you think will fare better out there? The nine hundred ninety eight kids out of the factory or the two who showed up to their test hung over and still managed to pass with flying colors? Cheer up!”

Taryn finished up her glass of water and placed it back on the replicator.

“Now come on, let’s get ready and pass this thing so we can impress our shipmates with this story next week”, she said, with a smirk.

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Guest Gogigobo Fairhug

Guest Gogigobo Fairhug

The transport had arrived early. That was great! Gogi liked being early. He took out a small white container from his jacket pocket, unscrewed the lid, dipped his almost leathery fingers into the Bardeezan beeswax (the one luxury from his home world that he couldn't be without) and began rubbing it into his long, forked and braided ginger beard.

To look at Gogigobo Fairhug, you may have thought he'd had a hard life. His skin was well tanned and he had deep wrinkles on his brow. Indeed, he had been a manual labourer most of his life, whether on his father's farm back home or his cousin's freighter before he joined Starfleet Academy. But to him, life wasn't hard, it was an adventure! And as he stood now, surveying the impressive promenade with the bright green eyes that were the only feature that gave away his relative youth, he wondered what this new chapter would have in store for him.

As vibrant and interesting as the promenade looked, there was somewhere else that Gogi had heard tales of in his time at the Academy that piqued his interest - The Dungeon. He had a few hours to kill and he'd decided that was where he was going to kill them. He'd heard that The Dungeon had been cleaned up quite a bit and was much safer these days. That was a shame, he thought. One thing Gogi enjoyed was new experiences and The Dungeon sounded like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Mundok's Bar sounded like a good place to start. It was unfortunate that he wouldn't be able to try the local liquor this close to the start of his cadet cruise. A brief scouting mission would have to do instead!

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Cadet Knight woke form his sleep and sat up wide eyed "today's the day" he thought

computer music on

he shot form his bunk as beetles classical music play at full volume much louder than any normal Terran should be able to stand, a result of his toddler years of playing with homemade primitive but deadly gunpowder experiments of his. pulling on his cadet uniform as he mouthed the words of the song ,making sure that everything was just right on his uniform "gotta look sharp" he thought as he combed his dark brown hair making sure it was just right. satisfied with his appearance in the mirror he installed in his room ,most cadets just use the computer reflections system but it just wasn't the same. grabbing his already packed duffel form under his bunk.

"Computer, music off" he said suddenly becoming aware of his neighbor pounding on the wall "how rude", computer save audio to external storage"

the computer came back "audio files saved to external storage"

"thank you" he said as he retrieved the storage device form a terminal near the door. the pounding had stopped, David smiled he had programmed the computer in his neighbors room to play his music at full volume every time the lights off command was given, revenge for going straight to the academy student liaison and not simply asking him to turn it down. walking out of his old room he stopped far enough for his door to close and held his hand in the air counting down form three to one when his music could be heard form his old neighbors room at full volume.

"Early bird gets the worm" he yelled out to the hallway, continuing to the docking ring where he was set to meet his shuttle for transport to the U.S.S MONGOOSE, his first assignment. he couldn't help but think of the possibilities of traveling stars and the adventures he would have, which was why he was headed out early for his shuttle "nothing would stop him form making this shuttle" he thought. his thoughts broke as he noticed a pair of female cadets coming the opposite way of him

"Good morning" he said as he passed and turned and starting walking backwards to watch them go, just noticing one of their heads turn before smacking into some one behind them. the collision resulting both him and the stranger landing on the ground, hopping back to feet as fast as he could with remarkable quickness for his lanky figure and looking down at his fellow cadet still on the ground.

"If it isn't the shadiest helmsman Star fleet has to offer, Mr. cook how are you on such a fine morning"

"That's cadet cook to you and to think star fleet wants to trust you with its weapons systems" replied cook

"To be fair i was distracted and not just tactical operations i did some intelligence courses too" said Knight

"Uh huh, you just remember curiosity killed the Klingon now move out the way your going to make me late for my shuttle" said cook looking down at Knights duffel laying on the ground "no"

"Oh yes, just think about it the best helmsman and the best tactical officer that star fleet has ever seen, what could possibly go wrong"